I read some quote recently about the caterpillar turning into the butterfly. One life ending, the other beginning. It was supposed to be inspirational, but the image stuck with me.
Because it’s not really a beginning or an ending. It’s just a continuation of the same. It only looks different. A caterpillar basically digests itself with its own enzymes, becomes something like a goo with small clumps of chunky cells (maybe more like a stew than a goo?), and then all that liquidy glop comes together to become the butterfly. The thing is… stimuli that happens to the caterpillar is remembered by the butterfly. Nuts, right? It’s the same little being. Just different. (Seriously. It’s nuts.)
Why is this image stuck in my head?
It’s feeling a bit like an analogy of our life right now, though I’m not sure if we’re supposed to be the caterpillar or the butterfly. Frankly, I think we’re the goo.
I’m super opposed to self-pity. I’m relentlessly positive, putting a silver lining on just about any circumstance or situation or curve ball life throws this way.
But, man. I’m exhausted.
Between Emmett’s cancer round 1, followed by my cancer and John’s relocation to Louisiana, followed by Emmett’s cancer round 2, followed by John’s relocation back to Bloomington, followed by losing John’s dad, followed by Lukey’s cancer and amputation and treatment, followed by the Bloomington job not working out for John and relocating to Indy, followed by losing Lucas… and now…
Emmett’s health is failing. It’s been both gradual and sudden. Gradual in the sense that it’s taken since fall 2015 to get to where he is now with his declining mobility, but sudden in the sense that in the last month he’s gotten to the point where he can’t really hoist himself out of his bed without help.
There’s something wrong with his spine. We can do an MRI to see if we can figure out what. Best case? We swap one med for another to maybe alleviate some of the pressure. Worst case? Well, there are several. We spoke with his vet today. She suggested a quality-of-life assessment at Purdue.
My head knows the end isn’t far off.
My heart can’t take that knowing.
We are struggling, too, with a different kind of grief, one that I haven’t shared here. It’s the caterpillar and the butterfly again, though right now, like with Emmett, we are stuck in the goo.
Last fall, John and I decided to pursue an adoption. Not of the furball kind, but of the human kind. In this case, our heads and our hearts are aligned: We know this is what we’re meant to do.
And it’s really a joy-filled decision for us, and we’ve loved every step in the process–from the classes to the home study to getting to know other adoptive families. It’s been a remarkable, soulful journey. We know this is our path.
And yet. The goo.
We were chosen by a lovely woman. We met her and connected. We shared our lives for a few short weeks, and she called us when she went into labor six weeks early. We were there, holding her hand, when a perfect baby girl was born.
For reasons that are remarkably complex yet super straightforward–like the caterpillar and butterfly existing at the same time–her family opposed the adoption and, after 24 awful hours, gave the sweet baby girl to a distant relative.
We were–are–crushed.
We will pick up the pieces, of course, and we will continue down this path.
But all of these experiences, each one that piles on top of the other, it’s metamorphosing.
Things are changing, us included.
Part of that, for me anyway, has been avoiding this space. It’s a mistake, of course. I need to tell our story. (It’s like what Joan Didion wrote: “I write entirely to find out what I’m thinking, what I’m looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear.”)
I often think that some stories don’t fit here because they aren’t exactly about dogs. Dogs are just part of it. But that’s true for all of us, isn’t it? Sometimes our dogs are center stage. Sometimes they’re supporting cast. But they’re always a piece of the story.
I read this piece yesterday, What sorrow looks like when joy is allowed to sit next to it, and it made the butterfly and caterpillar image sink in further.
We need both parts of the whole.
Adoption is a joy. The loss of this baby was a sorrow, a deep one, but we have more joy ahead. And maybe having been through this, we’ll be even better parents to our child.
Emmett’s life is a joy. His loss will be a tremendous sorrow, truly devastating. Oh, but the joy has been immeasurable.
So, yeah. We feel mired in the goo. It’s been a pretty rough five years. I have faith we’ll emerge.
{{OK, writing this now totally reminded me of something I’d completely forgotten… OMG… do you guys remember THIS?! I hope we don’t have the same fate when we do come out the other side.}}
In the meantime, we’ll just wait for the goo to come together and form our butterfly.
And it will.
It always does.
Oh Maggie, I am so sorry. Sending you a big hug and our love.
Thank you, Joanne. Hugs and love to you, too.
So many challenges recapped in one post, so I hope you feel that there is just as much love and support coming back to you. Hugs.
Thank you so, so much. Hugs back to you (and scritches to all those gorgeous pups).
Maggie and John, it seems impossible and utterly unfair that so many challenges have been laid in your path over the past five years. It’s too much to bear, and yet you have … and come out beautifully solidified as an open-hearted, loving couple who brings so much joy to those of us lucky enough to be counted among your friends. Lean on us when you need us – we’re grateful to be able to give a tiny bit of what you’ve brought to our lives back to you. And know that there is a twinkle on the horizon who will soon be joining your family and bringing you all the joy you deserve. Love and hugs to you both.
Thank you, dear Amy. I’m going to hold onto your words. Thank you. Love and hugs to you and yours.
Maggie, I’ve been a silent reader here so far. But this post is so honest and so heart-wrenching that I can’t help but write.
Your stories and experiences with Emmett and Cooper have cheered me up on many depressing days and motivated me to spend more time with my two boys Buttons and Scooby.
When I look at them, my heart pounds with joy. And your stories have reminded me to make the most of the time we have together, perhaps even chronicle the everyday ups and downs so that one day, I will have a lot of memories to come back to. Thank you for all of it.
You’ve had a really rough time and I know no words will really help. But I send you and your family much love and many prayers from halfway across the world. Things will definitely work out and until then, hold on to your courage and your positivity. You will walk into the light very soon.
Thank you so, so much for taking the time to comment and share your wisdom. I’m so grateful for the kind words of support, and I’m touched beyond measure that our little stories have inspired you and your boys. Truly, thank you so much.
That is a lot to handle. ???
Mirella
http://Www.livetmedhund.se
It should be Three hearts after my comment not question marks.
Mirella
http://Www.livetmedhund.se
Sorry for all the comments:( should be hearts. Not question marks.
Mirella
Thanks so much, Mirella.
Sending you hugs and love 🙂
Thank you so much, Michelle.
Wow Maggie. So much vulnerability and truth and beautiful sharing. Thank you for all of that. Thank you for being the person who keeps loving and moving forward. The glue (goo)here is Love. Love for each other (you and John), love for your animals, and love for a baby that will be yours someday to care for- when it’s the right time and the right baby. I believe babies ask us to be their parents. The baby that’s asking for you, really really asking is coming. Sending much love to you while you wade through the goo. Oh, and I think that butterflies are super cool because they fly and are colorful and hang out with flowers and were strong enough to make it out of the goo. Reminds me of you.
Thank you so much, dear Diane. You words mean a lot to me, and I’m so grateful you took the time to share your insights. Thank you, as always, for your wisdom. Big hugs.
I was just thinking about your trip with Emmett to do the calendar. I still have it and love it. His life has been full because of you and losing him will be hard. You give him what he needs as you do for Newt and Cooper and did for Lucas. We only get them for such a short time but you have made that time incredible. I am sorry for all of your other losses and devastations and admire the way you have lived with them. I hope that you get some “dreams come true” time for a while. ???
That is one of my favorite memories with my guy, Becky. 🙂 Thank you so much for your very kind words and wishes. I’m so grateful.
Oh Maggie, I’m so sorry for all the goo you and John are going through. I’m trying to see through tears as I write this. My heart aches for you both. And for poor Emmett. But you have always inspired me with your positivity through it all; and I have no doubt you will come through this goo with even more strength. But as Amy said, we’re grateful to give even a tiny bit of what you brought us back to you. We’ve never met face-to-face, but I feel we are in many ways kindred spirits. Sending you and John lots of love and hugs. And sending Em, Cooper, and Newt puppy kisses from Shadow and Ducky.
Oh, goodness. Thank you so, so much for those incredibly kind words. That really touched my heart. I’m so grateful for you and for you sharing your stories, too. Love and hugs right back to you, dear friend.
My friend who put her dog down do to failing health asked me how I could bear to adopt a dog when I know they will probably not outlive me, and I may have to make that decision at some time. She said this because of the pain and loss she felt after losing her dog. I was blown away…and then I simply explained to her that I would not give up one minute of the LOVE that I have had with my dog (heart) because I may have to make a hard decision some day. I am sorry you may be looking at some unfortunate decisions or circumstances with Emmett. But in reading your blog….I know the love that is there, and strangely enough, that same love that can hurt so desperately buoys us through in the end. I am a positive person as well, but sometimes I just have to say out LOUD “this sucks, hurts, may be more than I can handle, or whatever it is I am feeling. And then I pick up the pieces and move on. Sending you all warm wishes and positive thoughts to bear you up during this trying season.
I am so sorry about the non-adoption, it hurst most when my hopes are dashed.
YES! That is absolutely it. The grief is a very steep price, for sure, but the love is worth so much more than could ever be repaid. That love keeps us going, no matter the fact that we know the end will be hard. Imagine choosing NOT to have that love and partnership? Thank you for sharing your perspective on that. I completely agree. Love is THE thing.
Oh, Maggie, it’s so much….it’s TOO much. Yet you still come out being optimistic at the end. I love that about you, and I know that means things will work out in time. I just wish you didn’t have to go through more bad before you can get out of the goo and into the good. Thinking about all of you with love.
The most personal and emotional things are the toughest to share, but I do believe that sharing does help. I’m glad you did.
I’m with you… I think sharing helps, even if it’s just to process as I type. Thank you so much for your kind words of support. That means so much to us. Thank you, Jan.
I simply love you. ? I have a butterfly tattoo btw. I understand. My ? shares your journey. I just don’t understand the whys of life. A lot.
I simply love you, too. (I also have a butterfly tattoo….)
Oh wow. Being new to blogging and finding your account to follow has been inspirational, emotional and lovely. I am so happy you are still doing what you do and the links to past posts are awesome as well. This particular posts gives me an insight to a lot of events in the past year and breaks my heart (in the right places) and allows me to know the strength that is in you at all in the same post.
This yo-yo life we all lead is so full of peaks and valleys that we may experience all 4 seasons in the same day!
Thanks for always writing from the heart and making me want to share more background to my ongoing story.
xoxox
Shannon